


Dessert★Paradise

by bookwormally



Series: VanVen Week 2019 [5]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Because i love writing them, Fluff, M/M, VanVen Week (Kingdom Hearts), also starring Vanitas's cats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:48:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21954646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormally/pseuds/bookwormally
Summary: Vanitas bakes, Ventus helps.VanVen Week Day 5: Warmth | Bleed | Remembrance
Relationships: Vanitas/Ventus (Kingdom Hearts)
Series: VanVen Week 2019 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1576693
Comments: 12
Kudos: 56





	Dessert★Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> This one got away from me and isn't strongly connected to the prompt, but ah well.
> 
> Happy Holidays to anyone celebrating right now and may our coming New Year be filled with hope and light for us all!

**Warmth |** ~~Bleed~~ **|** ~~Remembrance~~

“Meow.”

“Dammit.” Dodging around another cat’s tail, Ventus has to quickly rebalance the tray in his hands. Luckily for him, no cookie goes sliding off the edge to be taken by the furry void below. He sets the tray on the table and then bends down to scoop up the offender. “Blob, you’re not helping. Why are you in here? Vanitas, why is he in here?”

Vanitas doesn’t look up from dumping butter into his bowl. “Because he cries if I shut him out of the kitchen.”

Scratching under Blob’s chin, Ventus gives his boyfriend a look. “He’s crying in here and I almost stepped on him for like the third time. Scrapper is even worse. He took a swipe at my ankles!”

“Then don’t get close to his hiding spot.”

“His hiding spot is the  _ island _ .” Ven gestures with a foot and a black paw darts out to smack at his toes. “Scrapper, no!”

Blob meows in his ear and tries to climb up onto his shoulder. Ven sighs and puts him back on the floor. “This is chaos. How do you bake like this?”

Vanitas shrugs. “I’m used to it. They’re my cats.” Blob trots over to Vanitas’s feet and flops onto one. Vanitas rubs his side with the other, sock pulling Blob’s long fur every which way. “If you step on Blob, it’s fine. He learns and knows to stay out of your way then.”

“I’m not being the jerk who steps on a cat!” Ven grabs a spatula and waves it threateningly at his boyfriend. “Blob is the only one who likes me and I’m not ruining that. Even if he’s kind of dumb.”

“He’s an absolute idiot,” Vanitas agrees, flicking on the hand-mixer and beating the butter into a smooth cream. Ventus is privately jealous; how does it just not have lumps? The whirr makes it a bit harder to talk, but Vanitas raises his voice to compensate. “You’re just soft.”

Ven has a tray of cookies to empty and refill with more dough, but he leaves the spatula on the counter and walks over to Vanitas instead. Careful of his arms and elbows, Ven wraps his arm around Vanitas’s chest, tucking his chin on Vanitas’s shoulder. “Sure, I’m soft,” he agrees. “But I didn’t adopt three black cats and I don’t stop to stare every time I see one on the street.”

He can  _ feel _ the heat of Vanitas's flush and see it climb up his ears. “People treat them shittier,” he mutters and Ven will not laugh at him for that. He squeezes Vanitas’s middle and watches the batter settle with the mixer off. It’s smooth and smells like vanilla and he sighs. 

“You also bake,” Ven adds.

“So, because I like saving regularly mistreated animals and feeding myself, I’m soft?” Vanitas scoffs. “Bullshit.”

Ven settles the point of his chin more firmly into Vanitas’s shoulder. “It makes you soft  _ and _ sweet. My soft sweet boyfriend.”

“Ew.” Vanitas leans back into him anyway, Blob still flopped on his foot. “Helps that I’m not some man.”

Laughing, Ven agrees, “Yeah, it does.” He closes his eyes, well aware that he’ll have to move soon. Vanitas doesn’t have everything in reach and they are here to bake. He’ll enjoy it for now. “Do you ever think about opening your own place? Cat rescue and baked goods.”

“That means people. You know how I feel about them.”

“Bastards,” Ventus growls in a poor approximation of Vanitas’s voice. “Bastards, all of them.”

Vanitas elbows him in the gut. “Don’t do that to your voice. You sound fifty and like a smoker.”

Ven presses closer, trying to avoid another elbowing. “That’s what you sound like.”

“I do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do not.” Vanitas starts to shake in flour and something else; Ventus almost sneezes. “So, no, I could never run a place like that. I hate people and I wouldn’t actually be able to sell my shit.”

Ventus hums and loosens his grip. He leans back and looks at Vanitas; he’s got something smeared on his cheek and his fingers are dusted with flour. Ven’s heart turns over and he knows he’s got the dumbest soft smile on his face. The words come out without thought, his ears processing them at the same time as Vanitas’s. “I could do that part.”

Frozen. The whole kitchen freezes. (Except Scrapper who is edging a pan closer to the edge of the island shelf.) Vanitas looks over his shoulder and his face is red. “Sell my shit?”

“N-Not exactly! But I’m friendly and you tell me all the time that I’d make friends with a shark and all the island grannies or whatever, so it’s, you know!” Ventus hates when he babbles, but Vanitas makes him feel so  _ dumb _ sometimes because the words come out and Vanitas is so careful with his and holy shit,  _ why would he say that when they’ve only been together for three months? _

Vanitas dusts his hands off and turns, taking Ventus’s. He presses them together and then pulls Ventus sharply to him. “You’d even consider working with me?”

Ven can only nod, certain that the next words out of his mouth will somehow be a proposal.  _ It is way, way too soon for that. He doesn’t even know if Vanitas snores! _

The smear of something on Vanitas’s cheek lifts, changes shape, as he smiles and then laughs. He wraps his arms around Ventus and leans them back against the counter, probably too close to the oven. Ventus laughs back and slumps against him, not caring about the heat. “I’m stupid.”

“No you’re not.” Vanitas hugs him tight. “The economy is shit, you know.”

Ventus shrugs. “We’re still in college anyway. But, you know, in the future if we’re somehow still stupid enough to be together…”

Vanitas presses their foreheads together, bumps their noses against each other. “It wouldn’t be the worst idea.” He kisses Ven warmly, sparing both of them from unnecessary words. They only break apart when Scrapper succeeds in his quest to send the pan crashing to the floor. Even then, they keep brushing their fingers together and smiling stupidly at each other. The warmth in Ven’s chest doesn’t fade for hours.

_ It’s a romantic dream, the kind anybody would think of. They talk of it in spare hours, look at shops and buildings when they’re out on dates. They take a break from exams, work, and the holy hell of looming graduation to check out recipes and bake way too many brownies. _

_ It’s a dream, but a very nice one. _

Vanitas is exactly thirty-two when Ventus blindfolds him and takes him for a drive. It’s up there on the weirdness scale for a birthday, but Vanitas has had worse and has a whole fucking lot of trust in Ventus. (He still stares at his ring sometimes and wonders  _ how? _ ) It’s only ten minutes, but it’s ten minutes of listening to Ven sing along to pop songs and adding in swear words at the worst moments to piss Ven off. Anticipation builds until his stomach is a knot and when they stop, Vanitas actually considers telling Ven to never surprise him again.

But he doesn’t, because Ventus takes his hand and pulls him from the car. “You know what today is?”

“My fucking birthday. You think I don’t know when I was  _ born? _ ” Vanitas rolls his eyes behind the blindfold.

Ventus shoves at his shoulder. “No, shut up.  _ Besides _ your birthday, today is the day for me to give you this.” He whips the bandana off and shoves a stack of papers into Vanitas’s hands. Vanitas squints down at them in confusion. It’s a contract?

He looks up. “What are you-.” The building in front of them is familiar. They’d been in talks and talks and discussions of loans and payments and then...Vanitas had to drop it. Family stuff had come up and there’d been no time and other buyers had made better offers and it was...fine. Life kept going.

But there’s a contract in his hands and Ventus holds up a ring of keys. “We closed today. It’s ours.”

The contract ends up the ground, Vanitas throwing his arms around Ventus and spinning them both around. Their laughter seems to echo around the entire block, their eyes shining with tears.

_ They call it simply The Wayfinder, because it helps so many find a way home. _


End file.
